The Waiting
by calliecolors
Summary: Pam and Jim are in love with each other but they are stuck in a perpetual friend zone. This weekend (before Casino Night S2Ep22) retreat for the entire office may finally be their chance. Both of them are thinking it. But will a series of events reveal their true feelings before they even have a chance to voice them? Will their love be revealed to all in a final push from fate?


**The Waiting**

 **Disclaimer:** This is a work of fan-fiction. The story I tell about Jim and Pam is my own invention, and it is not purported, or believed, to be part of _The Office_ story canon. It is for entertainment only, and is not part of the storyline.

 **A/N:** Starts before season 2 finale (ep 22) Casino Night. My version of how Pam and Jim finally tell each other – and everyone else - about how they feel while on a weekend office retreat/vacation. Will try to keep it as canon as possible. Will try to update regularly. This will be a series of five or six short parts. Please read, enjoy  & review.

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 _The waiting is the hardest part  
Every day you see one more card  
You take it on faith, you take it to the heart  
The waiting is the hardest part_

Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers

###

The tour bus sits to our back, and we sit on the hillside watching Dwight operate in full-blown survival mode. "Aren't you forgetting the clove-hitch?" Jim yells, cupping his mouth with his hand so his voice will carry over to the toiling salesman-gone-wild.

Dwight looks up, one hand goes to his hip, and the other blocks the sun from his eyes as he considers Jim's question.

Giggling, I nudge Jim in his ribs with my elbow. We watch Dwight kneel down and retrieve a rope from his "bug-out-bag."

"I know you're messing with him," I say, "but it scares me a little that you know the term 'clove-hitch,' and can use it in context."

Jim gives me that sneaky wink out of the corner of his eye, his face pure-joy as he watches Dwight start to tie off the two branches he's using to make the lean-to. "It's a skill really," he replies after a minute, "Requiring a great deal of research on my part."

"I can see that," I say, "What kind of possible scenarios have you researched for? I mean where you actually need to use a word like 'clove-hitch' in a sentence?"

Jim shrugs, plucking a piece of grass and twisting it between his fingers. "With Dwight, you have to be ready for any possible situation. I think broken-down-on-the-side-of-the-road is actually number eight on my top ten possible situations to get into with Dwight.

"Uh-huh" I say, nodding. I have to wonder if he truly doesn't sit at home and think about ways to prank poor Dwight. Normally I wouldn't approve but Dwight seems to enjoy some of Jim's joking, and sometimes I think there is an unspoken friendship developing between them.

"Someone go collect me some large green leaves, about this size," Dwight calls up to us, as if on cue. He holds his arms in a circle about the size of a car tire.

No one moves. Kevin, Phyllis, Stanley, Ryan, Kelly, Angela, and Oscar are sitting on the hot bus still, Michael strayed off somewhere in the wood line about ten minutes after the bus stopped, saying he needed to find "a place to poo."

"Come on people, Phyllis, Kevin, get out here." When we still don't respond Dwight throws his hands over his head. "All of you will be begging to stay in my shelter when that storm comes," He points to the darkening sky overhead.

"Toby should be here with the bus mechanic soon," I reassure Dwight.

Jim cuts his eyes toward the dark clouds, then back toward Dwight. "Maybe you should be the one to gather the leaves, Dwight," he says, "we would probably just waste time getting the wrong ones."

Dwight opens his mouth like he might argue, then holds up a finger. "True," he agrees, "I am the only one here who has any chance of identifying poison oak."

"Exactly," Jim says, grinning as I start to giggle again. I try not to be vain but I can't help feeling like Jim's always joking with Dwight for my benefit, or maybe as a way to distract both of us from the feelings that never seem to fade, or come to light.

"So..." I say, as we watch Dwight inspecting a variety of trees.

"Michael's been gone a while," Jim says, "Do you think he's lost."

"Definitely," I tell him, knowing I shouldn't have let Michael wander off alone. "I guess we should probably go find him before he gets too far."

Jim laughs, "I'm just really enjoying this moment," he says, and his hand brushes mine as he repositions himself into a position where he's lying on his side, holding his head up with his elbow, his floppy gold-brown bangs falling in his face.

"Your hairs getting shaggy again," I point out, my hand still tingling from his touch. Making comments like this about his hair feels good. I know it feels good because in a casual, subtle way it feels like I'm claiming him or have some claim over him when - in reality - I don't, and I'm starting to think I never will.

"Yeah," he says, absently rubbing his bangs flat against his forehead, like he sometimes does when I say something that makes him feel self-conscious. I hate that I feel like I know him this well. How did things go this far? There's just these invisible boundaries we can't seem to cross, like we're stuck in some sort of perpetual friend zone. "Yours is getting pretty long too Beesly." He makes like he's going to reach out and touch my hair then stops himself - his hand hovering in midair - and our eyes meet.

Not often has he looked at me this intensely, as if he's finally giving himself permission to show me how he really feels, and his eyes are like playful fire, bright and burning, so full of silent meaning and words left too long unsaid that I feel tears start to well up in my eyes.

"Hey guys," Oscar calls out, and I try – unsuccessfully - to rip my eyes away from Jim's blazing lingering gaze, from the way he is staring openly at me in front of everyone. "Guys?"

"Yeah Oscar," Jim yells, still looking at me.

"My phone alerts me if there's severe weather. Apparently there's a tornado warning in the next county over, less than twenty miles away."

Just then we notice Dwight heading our way looking down at his phone. "We know," Jim hollers at him, and with a sigh he rises, and drops a hand down for me. I take his hand and let him pull me to my feet. Once again, our brief physical encounter gives me goose bumps. Something about being out of the office with him has increased the times we manage to touch each other.

"I'm calling Toby," Dwight says, putting the phone to his ear as he comes within ten feet from us.

I look up to see that the others are following Oscar off the bus, and looking up at the oncoming storm. I notice Jim searching the tree-line for Michael. A strong wind whips through the air around us, sending waves down Jim's grey t-shirt. "I'll call Michael," he says, retrieving his phone from his jeans pocket.

I watch him dial the number. Dwight starts walking away talking to Toby, and I listen to both of their conversation simultaneously.

"...what do you see around you?" Jim asks.

"How could you possibly have taken a wrong turn? Did Pam give you bad directions?" Dwight.

"...no there aren't any cactuses in Pennsylvania..." Jim is saying, holding a finger over his other ear because Dwight is talking so loud.

Dwight turns and gives me a dirty look. "That is why you never take direction from a woman Toby." He says into the phone, before turning away from me shaking his head.

"All right don't move Michael," Jim says, "we're coming to find you."

"Hurry up. The herd is starting to panic," Dwight says, making a half-ass attempt to keep the comment under his breath. He hangs up the phone, puts it in the case on his belt, and puts his hands on his waste, looking over at us then back at the bus.

I sense rather than hear Jim come up next to me. "Going to have to go find him," he tells me before addressing the others. "I need to go find Michael. Who's with me?"

"You?" Dwight asks, smirking, "You need to find Michael? I think the group would all agree that I'm the one who should go looking for Michael, not a couple of amateurs like you and Pam."

Jim frowns, "Who said anything about Pam? Never mind," he says, shaking his head and pointing up at the storm, "Okay look people, probably the safest place to be when that storm hits is on the bus so why don't you all-"

Oscar cuts him off. "Actually, in this type of situation experts recommend finding a ditch or depression of some sort, lying down in it, and covering your head."

"Okay, well we don't know if this is that type of a situation yet, though," Jim says, holding up his hand.

"And we need to find Michael," I add, feeling a little nervous that we still haven't found him yet. I'm watching the grey clouds and they're approaching really fast.

"What did Toby say?" Jim asks Dwight.

Dwight rolls his eyes. "Some idiot gave him bad directions."

"Hey! Don't call me an-" I start.

"Dwight," Jim says his voice stern and serious. "That's not a good idea."

"What?" Dwight asks, "Calling Pam and idiot? If the shoe fits..." He mumbles.

"Dwight," Phyllis scolds.

"What?" Dwight demands, "Am I the only person who says it like it is around here."

"I'm warning you Dwight." Jim says, his voice trembling a little. I look over and see he's actually getting mad, and Dwight so rarely can get under Jim's skin that I feel the need to step in and de-escalate the situation. "When will Toby be here?" Jim practically growls.

Dwight narrows his eyes at Jim. "Are you threatening me Jimbo?"

"Okay, okay," I insert, "Jim, Dwight and I will go look for Michael. The rest of you get on the bus and wait for Toby and the mechanic.

###

"He went this way," Dwight says, having donned his bug-out-bag, and fishing hat.

We follow him into the trees, and fall behind a little as he tracks ahead. The day has darkened incredibly since the bus broke down. The tree branches lash around wildly in the wind. "Michael," Dwight yells, ahead of us.

"I told him to stay put." Jim says, taking my hand to help me over a fallen tree. The contact sends lightning up my arm. I feel the pressure of his hand on my lower back as he guides me around some low hanging branches, and my knees feel weak. I remember reading something in a romance novel about how men used to wear gloves or put a napkin between their bare hands and the bare backs of whatever sweet thing they were dancing with. I didn't really get it at the time but feeling Jim's hand there I suddenly understand. It's an intimate, almost forbidden, interaction for two co-workers and friends.

"What are you two doing back there?" Dwight calls from somewhere hidden by the trees in front of us.

"Watching your back," Jim shouts in response. I feel him looking over at me. "Are you okay?" He asks gently.

I swallow. Most of the time I feel pretty confident that Jim is having the same feelings I am, but occasionally I get insecure and wonder if it's just a one-way thing. "Yeah," I say, lying, and try to shrug nonchalantly. "Just worried about being stranded in a storm, I guess."

"Yeah," he agrees, "definitely. It's bad timing, right?"

"Right."

"Hey, I found you guys." Our boss says, emerging from behind some trees, brushing leaves off of his athletic pants. "I knew if I just kept heading south."

Jim and I share a look. Neither of us feels compelled to tell Michael that when he stumbled on us he was traveling northwest. "There you are," Dwight says, stepping into the clearing.

"It's looking pretty stormy out here guys. Where's everyone else?"

"Back at the bus," I tell him, thumbing over my shoulder.

Jim nods, "where we should probably be."

"Well then lead the way, my conquistador," Michael says holding his hand out, gesturing for Jim to lead.

Suddenly the forest around us in lit up – like it's daytime – with a flash of lighting. A few seconds later a low rumbling thunder vibrates the ground.

We follow Jim as it starts to pour. "We're almost there," Jim calls back to us, the gusts of wind almost drowning out his voice.

"This is kind of scary," Michael yells, and I look back and see him staying very close to Dwight.

"This?" Dwight says, managing to puff up his chest while also walking, "This is nothing."

"Okay, well," Michael yells, "It's a really bad storm and we're stuck out in it, so I'd like to know what you-"

"Tornado, earthquake, tsunami, hurricane, volcano."

"Why are you doing that?" Michael yells over some rolling thunder, "Why are you just naming off natural disasters."

"All survival situations I would thrive in as opposed to the rest of you."

"Let's start with making it to the bus in one piece," Jim yells.

For the first time since the storm started I hear fear in Jim's voice. He seems very perturbed and worried, constantly looking up at the sky. "Do you think we're in trouble?" I yell over the howling wind and pounding rain.

He looks over at me and shakes his head. "Probably just a little thunder storm."

"But Oscar said-"

"What did Oscar say?" Michael asks.

Jim frowns at me. He's probably right. I probably shouldn't have mentioned what Oscar had said while Michael was around. He has a tendency to panic. "Nothing."

"He said there's a tornado warning in the next county over," Dwight says, karate chopping a low hanging branch he's walking by.

"Wait...what?" Michael freezes, putting his hand on a tree-trunk for support, "Are you saying there could be a tornado?"

"Yes," Dwight says at the same time Jim and I both say "No."

"No, Michael," Jim says, "That's not what we're saying. Let's just keep moving. We're almost to the bus and we'll be safely at our hotel by dinner time."

"Yeah," I say, giving Michael my best smile, "And they probably have that pumpkin cheesecake you like on the menu."

Michael shakes his head angrily, "Don't make me think there's going to be pumpkin cheesecake if you're not sure, Pam," he says, "You know how much I like pumpkin cheesecake."

"I know, I know," I tell Michael, "And just think, they might even call you a hero for getting all of the Dunder Mifflin employees safely out of the storm."

"That's true," Jim chimes in "sometimes they give away awards."

Dwight's shaking his head and frowning. He opens his mouth and I'm about to attack him before he says something stupid when Jim yells "Duck!"

I barely have time to look up before the falling tree limb is almost on top of me. Then suddenly something collides with my body – confusing me because it came from the side and not from above – and I go flying through the air and landing in the mud with something heavy on top of me. There's a moment where I feel like I'm suffocating and then Jim's pushing up and off of me. "Oh my god are you guys okay?" I hear Michael yell.

Blinking up, I see Jim propped over me and I realize that he just knocked me out of the way of the huge falling branch. He may have just saved my life. "Thank you," I squeak out, and he gives me a tiny smile, before grabbing onto a tree and pulling himself to his feet.

###

 **A/N:**

I'm just tinkering with this right now because I'm seriously missing The Office, but if you guys like it please let me know! Your reviews keep me motivated to keep the story going. ~calliecolors


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